


Loving you, not for the first time.

by LaMorenadelAtl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Humor, Infidelity, PoC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-04-23 11:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMorenadelAtl/pseuds/LaMorenadelAtl
Summary: No, his eyes were that of a simple heavy rain, dark and bothersome but entirely natural. She wondered what it meant that she's always been fond of the snow. - Sansa mostly loves Jon. She mostly loves her job. She's mostly a good person. But Sandor makes her question it all. Doctor Sansa and Sandor. Businessman Jon. PoC cast. No endgame in sight. Modern AU. Double post on here and ff.net.





	1. Chapter 1

Not for the first time, his eyes reminded her of a sky during a storm. Not the refreshing rain that came with spring, or even the roaring hail that beget a rough winter. No, his eyes were that of a simple heavy rain, dark and bothersome but entirely natural. She wondered what it meant that she’s always been fond of the snow. 

“Are you listening to me?” He asked. She tried to recall what his last words were. Something about..

“Yes, Jon. I don’t mind you having to go out tonight. I didn’t have anything big planned anyway.” She smiled her best tight smile, and watched the guilt form in the edges of his eyes. In truth, she hadn’t had anything big planned. She wasn’t normally the type to improvise, but her relationship had been the last of her concerns as of late. 

“I’m sorry love.” He said, grabbing her hand with both of his, the scratch of his palms reminding her to go to Target tomorrow. 

“Don’t be. Just have a good time. Text me when you’re on your way back, yeah?” She offered him a light kiss, and he grinned before heading out of the door. 

She called after her Alexa, and soon rumbling reageeton rolled through the small apartment. A quick phone call was next, and she rattled off her usual order: Wong Ton soup, some of those meat-stick things, and a small touch of plain fried rice. 30 minutes later found her curled up on the small black sofa, the laptop in front her the only light in the room, highlighting the grease around her mouth. When Jon entered again, she was half coughing on a laugh and a bean sprout stuck in her throat. 

“Seems like you had just as good of a time as I did.” He barked a laugh, hanging his jacket on the coat rack. She saw him frown at the fried rice on the living room table, and bit her tongue to keep from laughing harder. 

“I tried. Come! Watch with me.” She smiled warmly, scooching up on the couch and patting the spot next to her. He languidly sat down and immediately rolled on top of her. 

“Jon!” She half shrieked, trying to push his ridiculous weight off of her. They both laughed as she angrily pounded against the top of his shoulders. Giving up, she just laid down and sighed heavily until he got up. In that second, she saw her phone light up with a text notification. She moved to pick it up, but thought better of it. Later, she promised herself. 

They discussed the occurrences of their evening for another half hour, him describing how Gendry thought getting shitfaced with the college kids was somehow gonna help him score with that girl in Delta Phi Nu, the short one, you remember? And she talked about how crazy it was that Caesar actually tried to convince himself that he could date Olivia because, like, in what world? He left her to prepare for bed, and she cleaned up her little nest, having half a mind to leave the rice on the counter, just to see what happens. She’s just finished wrapping her hair up when her phone beeps with another notification. 

Hearing the shower start running, she decides to open it. Both are from Sandor. The first one asks ‘You up?’ The second one is a Snapchat from him, actually. It’s a photo of him just coming out of the shower as well, the top of his chest, delicious hair included, and a bemused scowl on his face. The caption reads, ‘Don’t forget, you took my shift for tomorrow morning.’ She silently sends a prayer up to God, and asks Him why, why. Why would he make her an intern in a cohort that includes possibly the most attractive man alive? Just as life was getting good. She had secured her spot at King’s Landing Hospital, Jon had moved in. Hell, she had just finished a book last week for the first time in Lord knowns how many years. 

She spend a good four minutes trying to take an equally attractive but casual pic, settling on a small smile and rolled eyes, her dark waves framing her face. ‘K.’ He hates Ks, so she always sends it especially for him. Hearing the bathroom door across the hall open, she hurriedly plugs her phone back into her charger on the other sides of the room and begins to settle in bed. Jon is in all his naked glory, back muscles flexing as he pulls out a top and briefs to wear to bed. Sansa absentmindedly wonders what Sandor wears to bed. Thinking of an ass like his in briefs in enough to warm her, and she knocks the covers off. Jon smirks at her, and she realizes what he thought she was implying. Might as well, while he’s here. She thought. At first, she had felt terribly about how easily she dismissed the man she craved since high school. Now, though, she was at terms with herself. She was never satisfied with what she had. 

“My insatiable woman.” He purred. 

 

 

Morning came all too fast for Sansa. Her alarm rang, and she despondently noted the lack of light pouring in from the window. She walked over to turn it off, and looked back at Jon, still sleep as ever. The sight of him reminded her of the pleasant ache between her legs, and her eyes softened. He’s easy to love. She thought while going towards the bathroom.

When she got back to the room, he was just rousing from his sleep. She was combing conditioner through her hair when she felt his warmth behind her. However, instead of wrapping his arms around her as usual, he reached in front of her and grabbed one of her many hair products. He poured some on his hands and began to run his hands through her scalp. 

When Sansa began to protest, he said “Don’t worry. It’s the Jojoba oil you normally use.” He chuckled. “I know you, baby.“ Sansa looked up into the mirror in front of her, seeing Jon stand tall behind her, feeling his warm strong hands running through her scalp. She let herself enjoy herself for a second before quickly finishing the job of her hair. 

She stood and playfully pushed him away so she could begin to change. 

“Do you have to go so early?” He pouted with those full lips of his before placing then on the crook of her neck, making her hiss. 

“All this means is that we get more time together this evening.” She promised, slipping on a pair of black leggings. 

“I’ll try to not stay at the office too late, then.”

“You better. After 10, office hours are closed.” She moved into the kitchen now, making herself a quick cup of coffee and jam with toast. 

“Office hours?” He countered “Aye, Profe Stark, I really,” He dug his lower body into her hers “need some more help on this essay. I’d do anything to pass.” She swatted him lightly, and his eyes crinkled with laughter. So easy to love. She thought again. So, why don’t I? 

Grabbing her keys and tossing them into her bag, she had a final deep kiss with the man that loves her the way those storms of his love the ocean. Wildly, if not wisely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOC as hell, I know lol. But I'm flexing my AU desires. Also, GoT/ASOIF are mad under diverse, so I decided to change it up because I can. Sansa is Black and Irish, Jon is Mexican, and Sandor is Algerian. Code the other characters as you like, but if you wanna know what I code them as, let me know! Not sure if I wanna end this as SanSan or Jonsa, so lmk


	2. Chapter 2

“New scrubs?” Randa asked her as they walked together to the first bed on their rounds. 

“Yeah, how can you tell?” Sansa asks. 

“No nut stains from your Jon.” Sansa chokes, and whips her head around to see if anyone heard her. Randa doesn’t fails to double over in laughter at her own joke. 

“Your man has a kink, I swear.” Sansa huffs. “Yes, along with this brilliant concept of minding his own damn business.” Randa only laughs harder. 

Their faces clear to warm professionalism by the time they join the crowd that has gathered around Mr. Villasenor’s bed. Their attending, Dr. Nguru, gave them a small grimace at their appearance. 

“Dr. Stark, Dr. Royce, how generous of you to meet us,” He looked up to the clock at the wall “4 minutes… early.” His voice dropped off at the end, and tightened his lips before moving his eyes away from them. Sansa had to stop herself from snorting at him. 

Dr. Nguru began again. “As you all can see from the chart, Mr. Villasenor has been complaining of chest pains and difficulty breathing as of late. Note that he is 46 years young, works in a stockyard, and has no other pertinent medical conditions. What would you guess might be afflicting him?” 

“Heart attack?” A young kid in front of the pack of interns offers. Dr. Nguru looks at him pityingly. “Four years at Stanford Med School and that’s the best you can come up with, Dr. Benson?” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he asks for any other ideas. 

“Does he have a family history of this condition?” Sansa asks. Dr. Nguru looks at her curiously. “Why would you ask that?”

“Well,” she starts “If he does, it might be Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, which would explain why these symptoms are only just now occurring. His heart muscles have had enough time to grow overgrown. “

Dr. Nguru hummed. “Interesting theory. And if I said that he didn’t, what do you think he might be suffering from? Someone else.”

Each face in the crowd twisted in thought for a pause before most eyes turned downward. Sansa turned his symptoms over in her head a few times, unable to find another condition that could lead to them. 

“Luckily, he does. Today we are going to run tests to see if he in fact has Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”

“No so luckily for me, eh?” Mr. Villasenor asked with a wry smile. Dr. Nguru gave him a chastised twist of his lips, something Sansa had never seen on him. Sansa wondered if they knew each other before this. 

The day went on similarly, being questioned and having her hopes dashed for a handful of hours. She did a flew blood tests, listening dutifully to the instruction of the nurses. Her favorite nurse, Gilly, was showing her how to draw a stat lab in between complaints of her son Sam and his absolute refusal to share his toys with the other children in the hospital nursery. Gilly was married to Sam (senior), a friend of Jon's through his old job as a security guard during college. Before working at the hospital, Sansa and Gilly were only polite girlfriends-of-bestfriends. Now, Sansa felt a true bond with the girl. And the fact she had an adorable baby boy to coo over didn't hurt. But the look Jon gave her every time she held that baby... For someone who hated me for most of his life, he surely moves fast, she thought

When lunch came around, she sat at her spot in the cafeteria with a full plate as the usual suspects rolled in. Randa, Jeyne, Willas, Tormund, and Theon each took their seats. 

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” Theon remarked sarcastically, pulling a small hair from his soup. 

“Make your own damn food then!” A voice called from behind the serving bar. Theon had enough humility to look guilty, and continued with his soup. 

“Where’s Sandor?” Tormund asked, pulling a piece of bread apart before shoving it into his face. “He owed me $50, and I have a date tonight.”

“He gave his shift to Sansa.” Jeyne said, delicately dabbing her face with a napkin. 

“He asked me to take his shift.” Sansa pointed out “Don’t get it twisted.”

Randa laughed, nudging Theon. “Aye, you know that man would never take a morning shift if he can help it. Something you might wanna try sometime Theon. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many patients with a few too many milligrams of cortisone walking around.” She paused “Well, more convulsing than walking.” Theon blushed and stole the grapes off her plate. 

“Not my fault. Ms. Chan promised me that that was her usual dose.”

“I’m sure she did.” Tormund huffed. “Needs it to keep up with me.” The whole table broke up in laughs. 

“What? I can’t get a sugar mama?”

“You don't even deserve a Splenda mama.” Sansa retorted, sending the table into wheezing laughter again. 

They chatted and joked for a while longer before all of their pagers beeped at the same time. 

They made their way into the radiology room, Dr. Nguru standing off center along with Chief Radiologist Dr. Mormont. Sansa nodded at her distant cousin, who gave her a hard smile in response. Sansa wondered why she seemed so tense. 

Dr. Mormont went over to a file and grabbed a handful of X-rays before lining them up on the viewer. “This,” she began, straightening the images “is a scan of Mr. Villasenor’s chest cavity. Dr. Nguru instructed me that you all are on his case.”

Murmurs of assent rose up. 

“As it were, we have correctly determined that he does in fact have Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.” She pointed at the first image. “Here, you can see the thickened left ventricle. The level of thickening so grand that I’m surprised he’s still breathing, let alone talking and walking.” She paused and gestured to the next two images. “He also has a thickening of his septum, causing it to push into the left ventricle, furthering the blockage of blood flow.”

Dr. Nguru spoke up. “To be frank, he’s going to need surgery. And I…” He huffed. 

“The Chief of Surgery has asked Dr. Nguru here to take one of you on in assisting him in the operating room.” At that, Sansa’s heart crept up into her chest. 

A heart surgery. A surgery…on a heart. This is the only thing she’s dreamed of since high school, and this was her opportunity. She sent out a silent prayer of thanks at Sandor’s night-owl schedule, giving her the chance to be here for this. 

“Before we start culling most of you, who is interested?” Everyone except Tormund raised their hands. At their confused looks, his held up his thick hands. “These are meant for bones, not for delicate hearts.” 

“Alright.” Dr. Nguru said. “Theon, you’re out. Hmm, let’s see. Randa, you too. That leaves us with Willas, Sansa, and Jen.” 

“Jeyne.” Jeyne corrected him, which he paid no mind to. 

“The surgery will not be an easy one. We have to discuss more, but more than likely we will have to do a Septal Myectomy.” Dr. Mormont said. 

The words open heart surgery buzzed through Sansa’s mind and felt herself almost about to faint. 

“Now, as you are aware, this is a very delicate procedure, where you will be cutting open his aorta and removing part of the septal wall.“ She took a moment to look at each one of them in the eye. “This is truly a man’s life in one of your hands. Period. One false move and he’s gone. Now, with that said, whom of you will take the challenge?”

Sansa and Jeyne both raised their hands while Willas fidgeted uncomfortably. 

“I…I don’t think I’m ready quite yet.” He said in that velvet voice of his. Dr. Mormont laid a hand on his shoulder as Sansa wanted to. “It takes a lot of courage to say that. Next time, Willas.” 

Dr. Nguru zeroed in on the two remaining. Sansa felt a touch of unease roll in her belly. Her and Jeyne were well matched. Both has gone to some of the most excellent medical schools in the country, but for Jeyne it was even more impressive as she did not have the privileges Sansa was awarded because of her wealth and family heritage. Jeyne scored higher than herself in most exams, Sansa had found out. Nevertheless, Sansa stood straight and her gaze did not waver. She had worked hard to get where she was, and would seize her moment. 

As it were, it seemed Jeyne was thinking the same. 

“Brilliant,” Dr. Mormont said. “Tomorrow, we’ll have you both begin a training sequence, and whoever is less likely to kill Eric will get a spot in the OR.” 

The gaggle of doctors filed out. 

“That old jackass couldn’t spot an aorta from a leg if he had to. Who does he think he is, telling me I’m culled.” Theon grumbled, the wisps of dirty hair on his face moving to meet his mounting disappointment. 

“Theon, my guy, you just need to work on your sword hand some more, and the next surgery will be yours.” Tormund said as they reached the locker room. 

“And the next surgery will be yours.” Theon mocked him, causing Tormund to throw his dirty scrub top at him.

Randa was changing next to Sansa, and Sansa stared at her face carefully. Her best friend had a big heart, big and warm but easy to prick. 

“You good ma?” Sansa asked quietly. Randa nodded but her eyes told her otherwise. Sansa mouthed “Facetime tonight?” and Randa blessedly gave her an affirmative grin. 

 

 

Her phone buzzed just as Sansa was getting off the bus, opening it while she called out a “Thank you!” to the driver. It was a text from Sandor. ‘Hoe did to go’. He had sent, quickly followed by ‘How**** lol'. She smiled to herself while texting back a short response that it was fine, and that she had some great news to tell him tomorrow. Sansa felt a body crash into hers, and her grip on her phone tightened and it was only her long legs that kept her from falling. 

She opened her mouth to cuss the offending form out but paused when she saw who it was. 

“What do I tell you about you kids on that damn telephone of yours all the time?” Jon said in his best abuelita voice. She laughed loudly and hugged him before giving him a playful pout. 

“Jon Snow! You right bastard.” She smiled before regaining her thoughts. “Where are you off to? Did we run out of toilet paper again?” 

“Not yet.” He said a little awkwardly. “I got out of the office early today, but my boss wants a meeting to discuss business with one of our biggest clients.”

She squinted at him. “So, my godfather GreatJon wants to have a night at the bar with you and my dad. That’s what you’re telling me.” He had the decency to look sheepish. 

“Not quite like that. I mean we are going to be at the pub, but there will be business happening. I promise.” 

Sansa felt actual disappointment swell within her. She did like Jon, truly. “It’s fine. I’m just going to complain to my father later that he always steals my boyfriends.”

“Well,” Jon lead, dotting a small kiss to her lips. “I’m planning on being the last boyfriend he steals. It shouldn’t go too late. I’ll see you tonight love.” 

They shared a parting embrace, and Sansa continued her trek home, the feeling of his lips creeping into her heart less like heat, and more like ice. 

She decided to spice it up a little bit, distract herself, and make dinner. It was never as good as her mother’s, but Sansa could hold her own once in a while. Flipping through her recipe book, she heard a knock on the door. Who could be here at this hour, she wondered, as if it weren’t 8pm. 

Peering through the eyehole, she spotted him. With a barely contained squeal she unlocked the door and looked up at the massive man. 

“So, you said you had great news for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell I dead get all of my medical knowledge from Grey's Anatomy. So please excuse any errors. If yall are med kids and want me to incorporate a particular procedure, please hit me up before I run out of ideas lmao. 
> 
> Also this part is mad dialogue which normally irritates me so, sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Sansa paused for a moment, her brain starting to work a touch slower than usual. Being near him brought her back to 8th grade, when the sight of Derek Jefferson made her breath stop short during gym class, causing more than a few kick balls to reach her distracted face. Sandor was just so…Sandor.

 

He was massive for starters. And as a tall girl, Sansa had a particular thing for the few men who could tower over her. He also had beautiful dark hair, and deep wintery eyes. The left side of Sandor’s face was marred with a burn that ran down his neck, and though Sansa didn’t know how he got it, she’s imagined tracing the burn with her hands and lips more than a few times.

 

What really threw Sansa was the rest of him. She had never seen him outside of work, wearing only scrubs or the T-shirt and sweats most of the team work when they got off. But tonight, he was fitted in dark, casual clothing. His leather jacket, which was far too hot to be wearing this late in the spring, she thought, looked as if it were armor, sinfully fitting a knight of sex.

 

Sansa stumbled over her words. “I,” She began. “You right.” She said finally, nodding her head. She then pulled the door open wider, gesturing him to come inside. He set his jacket on the coat rack and turned to her.

 

“Well, what’s the good news?” He asked Sansa, as if this were normal. As if Sandor normally came to her house in the evening, uninvited, demanding things from her. She let out an amused breath.

 

“The bigger question is what are you in my house for this late?” Sansa said before her face pinkened, realizing how that sounded. “Not that I mind, but.”

 

Sandor just nodded. “You texted me that you had great news. And I’m an impatient man.”

 

Sansa mused for a second. “You are, but that’s not the reason.” Sansa crossed her arms. “What is it you need?”

 

“What makes you think I need anything?”

 

“You’ve never come to my house, despite multiple dinner invitations, for one. Second, you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed. You look like a man that has Friday night plans.” Sansa was proud of her deduction, nodding her head in affirmation.

 

“Smart little bird. You’re right. I have a date tonight and need your help.” Sand said plainly. Sansa’s deductive pride immediately shattered, and felt the same as the garbage disposal that started making gurgling noises from the kitchen. No, her pride felt worse. She quickly turned to go to the kitchen and look at the offending sink, giving herself a moment to school her emotions. _Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry you weak ass bitch_ , she told herself.

 

Sansa peered intelligently into the sink and heard Sandor come in behind her. In truth, she had no idea what to do fix it, but wasn’t going to look both sad and incompetent in front of Sandor.

 

“I can fix that, if you’d like.” Sandor offered, eyeing the sink from behind her. The warmth of his massive form sent a shock down her body. A mix of emotions flushed her like a tornado. Anger, at him supposing that he can just date people. Sadness, that those people are not her. Guilt, because she knows she is taken. Then Lust, because it’s Clegane. And now there’s the damned garbage disposal.

 

Sansa straightened her shoulders and moved to look at him, deciding that if he was going to ruin her night, she might as well get something out of it.  “If you would. If I’m going to get you ready for a date, that much labor deserves at least my garbage disposal.”

 

He rumbled a laugh, and bent down to the cabinet below the sink. She grabbed a flashlight and the rest of her toolkit from another one and handed it to him. “I’ll be back.” She said, absolutely not having such an intention.

 

She went to bathroom and shut the door behind her, troubled and sorry. She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. She wanted to tell him to go home because that he had no chance. She wanted to suddenly fall ill and disappear into the countryside. But she would do none of those things.  At times, she was cursed with a good heart. This was one of those times. She was going to do her best to make him drip in fine like chocolate on a strawberry.  She would tell him what to say, she would tell him how to be charming. He deserved this. A good date with a nice woman who could actually be with him. And as much is it burned her up on the inside, she knew it was the right thing to do.

 

Mind made up, she returned to the kitchen. He was standing now, moving to turn on the garbage disposal. It buzzed with a clean, healthy sound, and he shot her a smug look.

 

“Now I believe you owe me a makeover.”

 

 

 

 

“Sandor,” Sansa groaned, his name muffled between her hands, holding her face “That might be the worst ice-breaker that anyone has had, possible ever.”

 

He scoffed. “Dramatic, no? I just thought she could do with a bit of loosening up before she realizes I’m not much to talk to.” Sandor rubbed his face absentmindedly, the scarred side, as he oft did when make self-deprecating comments. _She doesn’t even know what you’re worth!_ Sansa longed to shout at him. _No one does. Not even me._

“Ya’ll will talk just fine. But I can guarantee you that if you ask her if she ever had a thing for the Lannister University mascot, she will think you’re a furry.” Sansa laid her hands in her lap, trying to imagine Sandor in a Lion costume, this beast of a man dressed in poorly stitched nylon and cotton fur, his mane missing hair in chunks from mishandling. 

 

Sandor sighed in exasperation. “Well I don’t have any other interesting stories to tell her, now do I?” Sansa conceded, putting up her hands in surrender. “It’s interesting, yes. But how about, I don’t know, asking her if she did sports? Gets you to the same conversation without letting her on to your kinks before it’s necessary.”

 

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “It’s not a kink of mine. I took the costume completely off before I fucked any of the cheerleaders I’ll have you know. Right gentleman I am.” He stuck his nose up in faux snobbery, and she couldn’t help her shocked gasp of laughter. “Besides,” he continued, leaning in to her. Sansa felt her breath quiet, though her heart beat louder than ever in her ears. “My kinks don’t need props. My hands do more than enough.”

 

Sansa felt as if she were the Wicked Witch of the West, slowly melting into a puddle of her own making. An extremely turned on puddle. Only when he a barked a laugh at her still shocked expression did her mind come back to consciousness, and she smacked the cushion next to him. _That bastard._

 

The sound of keys shuffling outside the door made both of them turn their heads. The door swung open, bringing with it three men and the strong stench of ale.

 

“Jon.” Sansa said, standing up, wiping her hands on her pants anxiously. A part of her was screaming for her to take herself up on that previous offer to run and hide in the backcountry, pretending to be a simple farming girl that no one would think was a would-be-adulterer. “I wasn’t expecting you for a few more hours.”

 

It was only after she spoke did she notice the other men at his side, clinging drunkenly and good-naturedly to one another. “And when did you run into Robb? And how do you know Theon?”

 

Jon looked at her fondly before confusion settled on his face as he saw Sandor behind her. Sansa opened her mouth to explain, but before she could do so Theon called out “Sandor! You missed a fantastic day at the job. I did like, eight surgeries. Lady Mormont was standing there, eyes watering with pride and lust at my fine suture skills. Everyone started clapping. Marvelous time.” Theon grinned brightly, beaming with pride. Sandor leaned his head over the couch to look at the boy, sucking his teeth with a blank look on his face. “Good shit.”

 

Sansa shook her head, overwhelmed with all the bodies in the room. “Okay. This a lot for me right now. Jon, kitchen.”  She beckoned him with a wave of her hand before turning into the kitchen, not waiting to see if he followed her.

 

She cocked her hip into the side on the counter, standing idly for a moment until he came in after her.

 

They both started speaking, then paused, Jon waving his hand in her direction, asking her to speak first.

 

“Right. Okay. First, how do you know Theon?” Sansa inquired. As far as she knew, Theon was from the Iron Islands, went to a school abroad, and had only recently moved into King’s Landing.

 

“He knew Robb from some summer program they did together in high school. Him and Robb came into the bar while I was with your father and GreatJon. He mentioned you guys work together. My turn. Who’s the pit bull looking motherfucker?” Jon pointed his thumb in the direction of living room, and Sansa frowned reproachfully at him.

 

“That man,” she stressed “is another one of my coworkers. I’m helping him get ready for a date.”

 

 

 “No manches wey.” Jon scoffed. “Who he supposed to be doing surgeries on? Fucking bears? Ya’ll an animal clinic now?”

 

Sansa stared at him with an extra purse of her lips, so he knew just how dumb he sounded. When her inebriated spouse’s face stayed twisted in confusion, she sighed and informed him to round up the boys, so she could drive them back home after Sandor had left.

 

“Actually, I had wanted them to stay for the game. It’s the Tully Blackfishes versus the Iron Island Krakens and I’ve got money that Theon’s sister is going down by halftime.”

 

When Sansa came back into the living room, Theon was replaying his fictional surgery scene by scene to Sandor and Robb who both looked half ready to throttle the little shit.

 

Sandor caught sight of her and the heat of his eyes… _Like she was a princess locked in a tower, and he her, her_ …

 

He was walking up to her now.

 

“So, coach, am I ready to play?” That fucking wry little grin he gives her, and just her, was going to be the death of her, she knows it.

 

She gets his jacket off the rack and helps him into it, giving him encouraging compliments the whole time. He was her protégé now, of sorts. His successes are hers, and she said as much.

 

“Wish I had as much faith in myself as you do, little bird. If anything goes wrong on my end I’ll let you know. And,” He peered behind her into the apartment. “If you need help with the kids, give a shout.”

 

Sansa locked the door behind him before walking up to Jon who was sitting on the sofa.

 

“I’m going to make a call in my room. When the game’s over let me know so I can drive everyone home.” Jon patted her hand, eyes still glued to the TV comparing Yara’s stats to Roslin’s. “Sure thing Sansa.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I just don’t fucking get it Sans.” Sansa winced at the strained voice coming from her phone. Her phone was leaned on the bed next to her, Randa’s slightly blurry face a low light in the room.  Sands hummed sympathetically at her friend while pumping her lotion bottle, running her hands down her long legs, taking care to rub heavily at the stretch marks on her thighs.

 

“I know I’m damn well as good as anyone else in that hospital, and he knows it. So why single me out with Theon?”

 

“You know Nguru’s an ass. He can’t help it. He just decided on you today.” It was all very strange, really. Dr. Nguru was one of the reason Sansa and other interns had chosen King’s Landing Hospital. He was world-renowned in the world of cardiothoracic surgery, having a survival rate of 96% for his heart-bypass surgeries, while the average was far lower. A little arrogance, she got. But damn, does he try nerves.

 

“I just need to be off his rotation before I snap, sis.” A sharp clang coming from her phone made her head snap up to see Randa holding her fluffy grey cat. “Little Sweetrobin has an attiude because I gave him dry food today, like his doctor recommends.” Randa spoke the last bit directly in his ear, making him squirm. Sansa couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. Maybe her and Jon should get a cat.

 

A similar clang rang through her apartment, followed by raucous male laughter. Maybe not.

 

Her and Randa spent the next twenty or so minutes catching up, arguing over their favorite shows before Randa said she had to knockout.

 

Sansa ended the call and found her boyfriend, brother, and coworker all passed out on the couch. She pouted at them sympathetically before giving each one a gentle shake. When that didn’t work, a kindly flick to ear got them roused.

 

An hour later she had somehow managed to get Theon and Robb tucked in at their own homes, safe and sound. Jon was asleep in bed by the time she got back, and she shimmied on her sleeping gown and pulled out one of her textbooks to do some studying for her test tomorrow. Her focused waned as the night went on, and every few minutes she glanced into her kitchen and though about Sandor. How his date probably found him so enrapturing, the way Sansa does. How he probably leaned for a good night kiss and made that poor girl’s nerves shake her bones. How he would’ve fucked her, if she was so inclined, because Sandor always said to her that love starts with sex for him.

 

Sansa’s never more than brushed his arm, and was as besotted as a teenage girl. When she finally went to bed, she curled into Jon as if holding him in her arms would make him her world again. But when she slept, she dreamed of emerald fire, grey eyes, and a princess locked in a tower with a hound.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole "Sandor as a mascot" idea was inspired by Behind the Mask by Hollandoodle. 
> 
> Look forward to some more introspective Sansa next chapter.


End file.
